Once and Again
by tamahome no miko
Summary: After Erik's disapearance, Christine comes back to the Opera House to sing. Her relationship with Raoul has become public, and her career takes flight. But Meg knows something the others don't... the Opera Ghost is back. *not "another woman" fic*
1. Beginning Again

***Dedicated to the loving memory of*** 

***Dedicated to the loving memory of*** 

***Steve Barton***

***Passed from heart failure at age 47 on July 21st, 2001***

***The original Raoul. He perfected the role. No other could come within a mile's radius of his performance. His voice will live on in our hearts forever… we'll miss you…***

Christine pulled her cloak up around her as she walked down the familiar street. It had been far too long. Her light-haired fiancée placed his arm protectively around her waist, letting his hand fall at the small of her back. She smiled up at him, thinking subconsciously about the ring on her finger… a ring she thought she might never have worn again after that day. 

The Opera house looked large and plain from where they were. The posters had long since been removed, and they were just now thinking of beginning another show. Christine thought back to the past few weeks. She had been with Raoul ever since the incident. He had taken her out of the country for a month, to his home on the shore. Christine was eager to leave the ocean, though. It reminded her too much of when she was younger… when her father was still around.

After a month on the shores, they returned to Paris, but it had been three months still and she had not been into the Opera house. Was he still there? What would happen if she went back? These were all questions that plagued Ms. Daaé as she walked into the lobby. As they returned further into the building, things started coming back to her. She could hear the rhythmic thumping made by Madame Giry, the piano cues played by Monsieur Reyer, the orchestra warming up in the pit, and the voice of her angel.

But was her angel even in existence? Her mind wandered off into thought, and she almost tripped over her feet several times without noticing. They reached the last row of seats and Christine froze. The workers had already put up the new sets. A backdrop of rolling hills stretched across the stage, and various platforms made them almost appear to be real. Raoul ran a hand through her hair and kissed her tenderly. 

Surprised, Christine moved back, and then looked up him playfully. "Monsieur, such actions are not proper in a public place!" He took her left hand in his. "Ah, but Mademoiselle, there things are quite appropriate when one is engaged to be married." He said softly, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it lightly. There was a coughing noise from the front of the theatre, and the couple jumped. "Excuse me, Monsieur, Mademoiselle…" Christine smiled shyly. "Monsieur Firmin!"He grinned and chuckled lightly. "Glad to see you looking so well, Ms. Daaé." As a slight flush appeared on her face, André and Reyer entered the scene.

"Good day Monsieur la Vicomte, Ms. Daaé." The voice of the opera's co-owner rang out. Firmin smiled at his partner. "Ah, André my friend! Just in time!" Raoul, looking slightly confused, tapped the exuberant manager on the shoulder. "Monsieur… if I may ask, why did you call us here today?" André motioned for them to sit, and then began.

"The reason we have brought you and Ms. Daaé here today is quite crucial. We have heard from La Carlotta's residence on the coast that she is in no condition to sing. Apparently, she has not sung a note since Piangi's death." Christine looked confused. "Monsieur, I don't think I understand what you are saying…" He nodded. "Allow me to specify. The Opera Populaire has lost its Prima Dona, therefore is in great need of another to take her place. You, Ms. Daaé, have the voice of an angel. We would be honored to have you as our lead Soprano."

A hand flew to her mouth, and tears to her eyes. "Monsieur… Monsieur… the honor… it would be all mine!" Raoul placed his arm around her. "Congratulations, love." She was beaming. "And what is the next production? Oh please, may we start right away?" Reyer stepped into the light. "Mademoiselle, we have several productions to chose from. Would you like to hear the aria from our first choice?" She nodded eagerly as a copy of the music was handed to her. 

Christine felt as if she were floating in midair. The music played once through, and the second time she sang along. It was perfect. The managers beamed, Reyer found her a joy to accompany, and Raoul stared with a heart full of love. The new lead Soprano sang with all of her soul… and she would for a long time to come.

Erik's eyes blinked open. He was still alive. "Damn" he muttered under his breath, choking on the word. He then felt a distinct presence. "Is that you again?" he asked harshly. She nodded, then realizing how dark it was, she said softly, "Yes, Monsieur. I've brought your meal." He groaned and flipped onto his side. "Why won't you let me die already?" Meg shook her head. "She wouldn't want you to die. She sees something good in you. If Christine can… then maybe I can too. I must be off to practice. Good day sir." It was the most she had said to him in the four, almost five months the young girl had been feeding him. 

Every day before her rehearsal, and every night after a show or a practice, she would bring him a meal and water. His strength had almost returned enough to steer the boat, but he wasn't stupid enough to try it. He got up slowly, gazing around the lair. There had not been much left after the mob had come through. Candles were broken, music was ripped, mirrors were broken… but the one thing that had not been touched was the organ. He didn't know why, but for some blessed reason the mob had left it be. Even in the awful state it had been in, Erik had managed to make things considerably better. 

Most things were covered with sheets, save his bed, the shattered mirror, and the organ. He sat down at the bench, unable to play. His fingers traced the keys, and it was as if he could play without putting any pressure on them. He could hear the simple notes… even if they were not being played. Suddenly, he heard a voice. A melody from an angel, come down from heaven. It echoed throughout the lair, and his eyes closed in astonishment. It was all too familiar to him… his heart had stopped, and under his breath he was barely able to mutter the words, "She's come back…" 

Authors note: Well, hope the first chapter met your liking! I do want to make it clear that this is in no way an "other woman" fic. I adore both Erik and Raoul… so you won't see me killing him off anytime soon like most authors. I'm not going to tell you if this is a Erik/ Christine fic or not… it's just a story about an Angel. That's it. Well, please leave me some feedback… it's what keeps me writing!

Thanks to you all,

Tamahome no miko


	2. The plot thickens...

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Christine, having finished the only pages of the music that she had been given, stopped singing abruptly. "I… I'm sorry monsieur… I do not know the rest." Reyer smiled. "A lovely tune. We should begin rehearsals immediately." Raoul looked slightly confused. "But what of a principal tenor, Firmin? Have you one already?" He shook his head. "No, not yet Monsieur. We are considering a few different men… but I believe the primary role in this opera is most definitely the one portrayed by Ms. Daaé." Christine blushed, and then went to sit back down, feeling rather awkward standing beside the piano. 

André smiled. "Well, I say we all go for lunch." Firmin nodded. "Would you care to join us? Monsieur la Vicomté, Mademoiselle?" Christine, first looking to Raoul for approval, nodded eagerly. He took her hand, and following Firmin and André, they were off to eat.

He blinked. His food sat untouched in front of him. The voice had stopped, leaving him hanging on a limb that was about to crack and fall to the ground. He threw himself back onto the bed, closing his eyes tight, waiting for the music to return. And he waited. And he waited. There was nothing but dead air. Cursing under his breath, he decided to find out what had been going on.

The catwalks were empty. Of course, no one dared to go up there unless they had too. He glanced out from his box, looking from the empty stage to the empty seats, to the empty boxes around him. He had found a newspaper in box 3, and was casually glancing over it, noticing how it was two months old. "Humph… Rumors about the queen… typical." He flipped to the obituaries, noticing the death of a particular architect he had worked with at one time. His eyes softened. "He was still young yet…. A pity. Such talent could have lasted for a long time still." 

He noticed an article about repairing the roads in the city, and some other gibberish that he honestly did not care about. As he was closing the paper, a name caught his eye. "What the…" he opened it again, reading out loud, "The Vicomté de Changy announces his engagement to Prima Donna?!?" Not noticing his actions, he crushed the paper in his fist. Why hadn't he known? Thoughts flooded into his mind, each one standing in opposition to the others. They whirled around at unstoppable speeds, causing him to press his eye's shut. He could not move.

Christine smiled genuinely, feeling the warmth of the fire on her face. Raoul was sitting next to her, reading glasses on, studying a legal document of some kind. Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder, her feet curled up under her on the loveseat. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her breathing slowed. Raoul, sensing she was asleep, placed his papers on a table and removed his glasses. "Christine…" he said softly, touching her arm lightly. "Christine, you have to wake up…" 

She shifted, yawning, but not waking up. "Christine, you have to get home and get into bed…" One eye opened, followed by another, followed by an enormous yawn. "oh, but why? I don't want to go into the cold…" she mumbled. He smiled and lifted her up. "Come on now, what would people say if you were here all night. It would start a scandal!" She nodded, and grasped his hand. "Walk with me to the carriage?""Of course" 

Sorry for the short chapter! Better go write more! (darned princess fic)

--TNM


	3. Discovery (Sorry so short!)

The next morning, Erik awoke suddenly. He had fallen into a deep sleep in his box, and was in grave danger of being noticed. He silently cursed himself, standing up and swiftly moving to the edge of the box. "Its late…" and yet it was five o'clock in the morning. The sun was not yet up, and the Opera House was dark. He quickly jumped down and made his way back to his lair.  
  
He sat down at the organ, and instinctively brought his hands up to play… but drew them back. It was still too soon for that, he thought to himself. And so he stood up again, feeling blood rush from his head. It had been so long since he had made any movements, that now, because he was beginning to return to his old self, he was limp and sore. He began to clean a small bit, brushing away broken glass, torn cloth, and ripped papers. He cringed at the remembrance of the angry mob.  
  
His eyes flew to a particular brick on the wall, one that extended a small bit further than the others. Making his way over to it, he brought his hand up and delicately pulled it from the wall. A small grin came to his face as he removed another, and another, and yet another brick from the wall, thus revealing a small storage area, filled with papers of all sorts. He removed the first one… one of his earlier pieces, filled with anger and frustration. The music filled his ear, bringing a glimmer of light into a world of darkness. Then he heard footsteps coming towards him.  
  
Meg looked puzzled. Just yesterday the man had been hardly alive, and now he looked nearly healthy! She stood back; taking a few cautious steps away from this man of myths that had frightened her for so long… and did now more than ever. He growled under his breath, not turning to acknowledge her, but showing that he did indeed know that she was there. "Monsieur…I…"  
  
"When is the wedding?" he asked darkly, cutting her off. The coldness of his voice sent chills up her spine, and she was frozen with fear… barely being able to answer his question.  
  
"3 days, Monsieur."  
  
He still did not turn, but waited for her to leave, which she did promptly. He walked to a small table… very scratched and mangled, with only three legs out of the four it had once possessed, and sat down. As usual, there was a plate of food waiting for him. He ate it willingly, for once, knowing that for what he was planning, he would need as much energy as possible. 


	4. And they meet again

Christine awoke late the next morning. She yawned slightly, rolling over and curling up again. She heard the door open, and the curtains being pulled. Sunlight poured into the room, disturbing her solitude.  
  
"Christine! Wake up, we were supposed to be at practice 10 minutes ago!"  
  
Christine sat up and glanced at Meg. She had overslept, and was now making them both late for practice.  
  
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry Meg!" she flung her legs off the side of the bed, running to her closet "Could you help me? I should come home much earlier last night, but the weather was so bad, and I drifted off to sleep, and I-"  
  
"Don't worry! You're getting married in two days, Christine, they shan't be too upset." Meg said as she helped Christine with her dress.  
  
They made it to the Opera house in record time. The ballet girls had already begun practice, which left Meg in a position to receive a harsh lecture from her mother later that day. Christine felt awful about it, but had to rush to the piano to begin rehearsing the opening numbers in "Faust" with M. Reyer. She would be portraying the role of Margarita, the lead, as was the duty of any Prima Donna at the Paris Opera House.  
  
Erik glanced down from his box, examining the situation. "A mediocre attempt at the role," he muttered to himself, "She is capable of much better. How many times did I explain that she must get enough sleep at night! It is essential that she gets her rest!"  
  
He stood up, letting out a deep sigh. Christine needed him. He knew it. Now was the time to see how much power he still possessed. Gazing down at the piano Reyer was seated at, he moved to the edge of the box. He raised his hand, and a smile crept to his lips.  
  
Christine knew that she wasn't doing her best. She was tense and unfocused, not singing badly, but not at her usual level of excellence. Suddenly, Reyer startled her by hitting a wrong note on the piano... or so she thought. Looking over to him, she realized that the piano had played the incorrect note on its own. Reyer was standing away from it, nervously looking around for either M. Firmin or M. Andre.  
  
As the piano continued to mysteriously play without the assistance of a human being, Christine stared at it with fear and amazement. Could it possibly be that her angel of music had survived the crazed mob that had entered his lair after she and Raoul had fled? It felt as if there was a bright, white light inside her mind, blocking out all other thoughts except that one: her angel had survived. The next thing she knew she was in her dressing room. How she got there she did not know... but she was there. She was standing in a room she had not been in for months, in front of a mirror that she had learned to love and fear at the same time. She backed up a few steps, not knowing whether to run away or to move forward again. 


	5. Fury

Suddenly, the door to the dressing room flew open, revealing a worried looking Raoul. He ran quickly to Christine, placing both hands gently on her shoulders.  
  
"Christine!" he exclaimed, looking around the room for any trace of an intruder… namely a certain phantom that had a tendency to worry him.  
  
Christine barely moved. "Angel?" she muttered, a look of question on her face as she turned to face her fiancé, "He… he was here Raoul… and the piano…"  
  
Raoul cut her off. "Hush darling, I heard from M. Reyer. Come, we must make our way to the carriage… you look quite faint" he said softly, not letting his voice express how incredibly concerned he was about the situation.  
  
She blinked at him, protesting like a small child, "But Raoul, the piano… and the, the mirror, and…"  
  
"Hush, hush dear. I should have suspected that your first rehearsal would be difficult for you" he whispered, turning her towards the door and leading her out of the dressing room, "It's alright, nothing will harm you"  
  
Christine nearly protested, nearly explained to her love that she was not afraid. No, fright was not the emotion she had been feeling. It had been a feeling of happiness, of excitement… excitement so great that she had been overwhelmed with feelings. She would return the next day, just to see if it was true. She wanted to know if he was alive. If he is, she thought, he could still teach me!  
  
In her ingenuous state of being, Christine imagined continuing her lessons with her glorious angel of music even after she had become the Vicomtess. Of course, Erik and Raoul both had other plans for Christine. Furious, Erik stormed back to his lair, only to find little Meg Giry waiting there with his food.  
  
She jumped back, obviously very surprised to see him up and moving. "Monsieur, you're supper, sir…"  
  
Erik walked very slowly up to the small table, tracing the outsides of the plate with his index finger. Very calmly, he picked up the plate, held it in front of the girl, and dropped it at her feet, pieces of china going everywhere, along with his dinner. Meg shrieked and began to run, Erik beginning to laugh with contentment.  
  
"Expect worse if you come here again, girl!" he yelled after her, kicking the table over in his anger. He, for once, was not sure of what to do. If he did what he wished to do, which would be to eliminate the Vicomté and take Christine as his, then Christine herself would be horribly upset, most likely scarred for life. If he waited to long, however, then his task would prove impossible, for she would be Raoul's wife.  
  
It was then that an idea struck him: To somehow cause the wedding to be delayed, giving Erik time to seduce Christine into his power, to make her fall in love with him and choose him over Raoul. It was on the brink of being foolish, but still so close that it just might work. He had a brandy, then eased into a dreamless sleep while sitting at his organ. 


End file.
